Think life’s not a theatre? My mind’s the perfect stage. Several plays showcase situations through every angle, believable or not. This “saying goodbye” reality, however, was not properly rehearsed and I was honestly scared.
My Grandma always said “Adios” was forever and “hasta luego” was casual. I said Adios to my Grandma at age nine. I can’t explain the feeling, but it felt fatal. I had a seasony red&green dress. I call her sometimes…but the sound of her voice does not compare to her touch. It’s achy.
My stage plays the scene, but I was nine—most of it is improv, I can’t remember the exact lines. It was a Sunday.
The KIPP survivors promised to regroup. We’ll apply to the same colleges. For that scene, I have the correct lines—emails, chat archives, notebook entries, scarifications…we’ll apply to the same colleges. St. Edwards, University of Houston, UTSA, UTAustin, UTArlington, Southwestern, Rochester, Scripps, Dartmouth, Georgetown.
That goodbye sensation was in my stomach way before we all had to say our goodbyes. Our promise should’ve been We’ll attend the same school. Bummer.
I am sitting, legs crossed, in front of my laptop, typing away my second day in a dorm that fits three.
The saying goodbye part was cryable. I debated whether I was going to use “Adios” or “Hasta Luego,” but when the time came I could only hold back the water balloon within me while saying “bye.” It was 3:30am.
I keep playing the lines over and over again. Maybe I should have stayed?
Nope. I love Scripps already.
